Herald of Joy
by wildegreenlight
Summary: Ron searches for a way to atone for past Christmas disasters. Written for the Romione Secret Santa exchange. Chapter 1 is full of Christmas fluff...may add a more spicy second chapter.
1. Chapter 1

Ron Weasley had gotten quite accustomed to doing battle with a mass of conflicting emotions. The months that had followed Voldemort's defeat had been some of the best of his short life, but they had been peppered with some of the most painful.

His relationship with Hermione was the source of most of his happiness. After so many years of _knowing_ in the darkest parts of his mind that she could never love him the way he loved her, he was somedays still overwhelmed to think that he had been, thankfully, so spectacularly wrong.

Even through the wild, grief-filled aftermath of the Battle, she had been with him; amazing him with her strength and the strength of her love for him. He had been thankful when their trip to Australia gave him the chance to be there for her in the same way.

Her return to Hogwarts had been so much harder than he had even prepared himself for it to be. They had both been unable to predict the hole that would be left vacant in their respective lives. By throwing themselves into other obligations: Auror training and helping George for him, NEWTS and head girl duties for her, they had been able to survive, what they hoped was, the worst part.

Through all the challenges that they had faced, despite the impossible odds that they would even _live_ , he and Hermione were alive, and even better, _THEY were THEY_. And now, Christmas holiday was only a few short days away.

But again, Ron was left in a swirl of contradictory feelings. The thought of seeing her, holding her, being with her again, made his whole being pulse with excitement. It had been three weeks since they had been able to meet, and to say that he missed her was an understatement of epic proportions.

The problem was, it was Christmas. Christmas. He tried desperately to not let himself tumble down a dangerous slope. The fact that this was the first Christmas without Fred was bad enough, but there was something else.

Last Christmas…he tried not to think about it, but he still carried the guilt of his absence. In fact, when he got right down to it, he had cocked up Hermione's Christmas on multiple occasions. Sixth year still made him cringe, especially when he thought about how she had given up vacation with her parents in fifth year to be with his family after his father had been attacked. And the Yule Ball…best not to even get started on that.

He **had** to make it up to her this year! This was their first Christmas as a proper couple, and he wanted to make it special for her. He just wasn't sure how. At least he had a few extra galleons this year; he had been saving every knut he earned from helping George. He had gotten her a nice gift, but it still didn't feel like enough. He needed a way to show her just how much she meant to him.

He decided that the best thing to do was try and get some sleep. It surely would not make Hermione happy for him to be exhausted when she came home. No, he would _definitely_ need to be well rested. That thought, at least, made him smile. Having her back beside him, in his arms…he literally ached just thinking about it. Eventually, he did drift off into some very pleasant dreams.

Hermione Granger was a total wreck. She could not stand still, much less truly concentrate on her duties. She had held it together as well as she could during the past week; she had thrown herself entirely into her course work, trying desperately to remind herself that she had only a short time to wait. Today, however, she had reached her breaking point.

She had known that this year at Hogwart's would be difficult; she had tried to prepare herself, but her preparations had been woefully inadequate. Everything she did, everywhere she went, she was reminded of Ron's absence.

And now, only a few scant hours stood between her and her heart's desire. Every piece of her willpower was being exercised to keep her from apparating directly to King's Cross Station. However, Hermione knew she had to make sure that all the younger students made it home safely; she had to put her own needs aside for a little while longer.

She did not think she had ever looked forward to any Christmas more than this one. Of course there were a few complications: her parents seemed to be fine with her wanting to spend so much time with Ron, but she wanted to make sure that she did not make them feel left out. Mrs. Weasley had helped by inviting her parents to the Burrow, but Fred's absence was sure to make the celebration difficult this year.

Well, at least it would be better than last year. The thought made her shiver. So much had changed in a year. Then she had been convinced that she would never see Ron again, or if she did, that he would never feel the same way she did.

Suddenly she had a very clear, yet horrible thought. She really hoped Ron was not thinking about last Christmas, or the one before that either. She sighed deeply, knowing he probably was, and knowing that she would make it her mission to reassure him that none of that mattered to her anymore.

The Burrow was a happy wasteland of ripped wrapping paper and ribbons. Every belly ached from laughter and fantastic feasting. Tears had been shed, but they were like a warm rain tempered by the bright sunshine of fond memories and amusing stories.

Ron pulled Hermione closer and bent down to whisper in her ear. She nodded at his invitation to join him outside. A few minutes later, they met in the backyard, bundled up and bearing gifts. He took her gloved hand and led them toward his father's shed, but instead of going inside, he turned and looked down into her confused face.

"Trust me?"

"Of course."

When Ron pulled her closer, Hermione felt the familiar sensation of apparating. When they landed, it took her a few moments to realize where they were. The sound of the waves crashing below and the soft lights of Shell Cottage told her their destination; however, she was still perplexed seeing that Bill and Fleur were back at the Burrow.

"Needed a little privacy?" She asked, venturing the only explanation she could think of.

"Well, yeah, but I'll explain more in a minute." He took a deep breath, and she could tell that he was nervous for some reason. Wanting to calm his nerves, Hermione decided to give him his gift first. She placed the small box into his hand.

"Happy Christmas, Ron."

"Want me to open first?"

"Yes."

"Alright." He made quick work of the wrappings, and Hermione couldn't help but chuckle at the boyish exuberance that Christmas gifts brought out in him.

Ron opened the carved wooden box and pulled out what looked like a gold pocket watch.

"Hermione, it's beautiful…it's too much."

"Wait, open it."

Inside he found that there was no watch face, but a mirror on one side and an inscription on the other: _Ron, You are the best of my past, present, and future. All my love, Hermione_

"It's like the one Sirius gave Harry. I have one like it, so we can see each other whenever we want."

"That's bloody brilliant!"

"And here," she pointed to the part that looked like a watch dial, "If you turn it, you can enlarge the mirror; push down the button to return it to normal."

He pulled her into a crushing hug, "This is perfect! This will make next term much easier. I love you, Mione."

"I love you too."

They shared a sweet kiss before he pulled away.

"My turn."

He handed her the neatly wrapped gift; truth be told, he had spent almost as much time wrapping it as he had picking out what was nestled inside. Before she could loosen the ribbon, he spoke again.

"Before you open it, I need to say something…" his voice shook a little as he looked searchingly in her eyes.

"Sure. Ron, are you alright? Look, if…"

"I'm great! But it really is part of the gift and the reason I brought you here." He took a deep breath; she nodded for him to continue. "You see, this place is important to me. You might not even realize it, but last Christmas…"

"Really Ron, that is completely in the past and I don't want you to…"

"No! I need to tell you this! It's important!"

"Ok."

"Right. Well, I stood right here last Christmas, out of my mind with worry and guilt and regret. Then I made a very solemn promise. I promised that if I could just get back to you, that I would never leave you again. Even if that meant I had to watch you be happy with someone else. And then, that miraculous blue light led me back to you." He motioned for her to open the package. Inside she found a silver bracelet with three round charms.

"Ron, it's amazing!" He placed on her outstretched wrist.

"That's the first charm, there" He pointed to a softly glowing blue orb. "The next one," it was a small glass ball filled with what looked like sand, "when I landed with you in arms here on the sand that day, I made my second promise: I promised that I would spend the rest of my life keeping you safe."

"Ron…" her voice choked with tears, but he continued.

"Now, this is my third promise." The third charm was round as well, but made of crystal, faceted like a diamond. "I promise that I will always love you, and I will do everything I can to make sure you never doubt it."

For one of the few times in her short life, Hermione Granger was at a complete loss for words. The bracelet was stunning, but his words were what really filled her heart. She knew Ron well enough to know that he never made promises lightly; the fact that he had shared these vulnerable thoughts with her was almost overwhelming. Several moments passed, and she could tell that Ron was waiting for her to say something.

"Silence is the perfectest herald of joy. I were but little happy if I could say how much."

"What?"

"Sorry, it's from Shakespeare, a play he wrote; it means I'm so happy that there aren't even words to say how much."

"Wow, that bloke is pretty smart. You like it then?"

"Ron, it's perfect…you're perfect…I truly cannot even explain how much…" She reached up, threading her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, and brought him down into a passionate kiss. His enthusiastic response left her panting when they finally parted.

"Was that from Shakespeare too?" She couldn't help but laugh at his lop-sided grin.

"Yes. It actually was. 'Speak…or if you cannot, stop his mouth with a kiss and let not him speak neither'"

"That's it, you've sold me! He's a bloody genius. You'll have to tutor me."

"Well, as much as I fully endorse expanding your Muggle literary expertise, now is not the time."

"Oh really? What did you have in mind? Before you answer, I'll just add that Bill offered the cottage to us for a couple more hours."

With that, Hermione decided that there had been more than enough talking for one evening; Ron wholeheartedly agreed.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This story was originally a one shot for the Romione Secret Santa on tumblr, but I thought it needed a smutty follow-up chapter. Hope you enjoy!**

 **Warnings: Fluff+Smut = Smuff?**

 **Chapter 2:**

Ron led the way through the front door; it was charmed to allow him entry. They were barely inside and free of their winter coats when Hermione pulled him into a passionate kiss. All of the emotions of the day seemed to erupt as the kiss deepened. Need for her crashed into him like the waves on the shore outside, and there was a moment where he considered taking her right there.

Deciding that he wanted more than a quick shag against the door, Ron pulled back slightly. Not to be deterred, Hermione took the opportunity to lift herself up on her tiptoes and plant wet kisses on his neck.

"Fuck," he whispered; the feel of her tongue on his skin simultaneously muddled and focused his thought process. He had to have her _now_ , but not _here_. Hermione moaned when he slipped his hands down to her bum, pressing her more firmly into him. He wanted her to feel how much she affected him; he wanted to affect her just as much.

Without another word, Ron scooped Hermione into his arms and headed toward the stairs. As he carried her, she laid her head on his shoulder and nuzzled into the crook of his neck with a sigh. When he pushed the door to the bedroom open with his hip, he was almost overcome by the echoes of the past. The last time he had carried her into this room he had been so afraid that he had lost her in every way possible, but now…

She must have sensed his turmoil because she turned his face gently toward hers and kissed his lips softly. He gently put her down, and they stood facing each other beside the bed.

"Hermione, I…" she gently placed her finger over his lips and shook her head gently. As she looked at him her eyes were wet but set in that determined way that he had learned long ago meant she would not be denied.

...

Hermione knew what he wanted to say, but she also knew that there were some things that were best communicated without words. He had already given her the gift of beautiful words tonight, and she wanted to solidify them with something more. Words could be manipulated and misunderstood; what they both needed tonight was so pure that it could be neither of these.

In the dim lamplight with the accompanying sound of the waves outside, she began to undress him. He helped her pull the jumper over his head as her nimble fingers began to work on his buttons. She relished the feeling of his skin under her hands and on her tongue, whimpering slightly when he pulled back, confused until she realized he was reaching to pull her jumper and undershirt off in one swift motion.

She reached behind her to work the clasp on her bra when he stopped her. He walked around behind her, between her and the bed. Moving her hair over her shoulder, he kissed her neck as he removed the delicate lace garment. Hermione moaned in pleasure as he cupped her breasts gently, brushing her nipples lightly with his palms.

"Ron." Her voice was husky with want as she leaned back into his chest. How could it be possible to want someone so much? To feel like you might literally die if you could not have them? Desire, she mused internally, was its own torture was it not? A voluntary cruciatus of sorts; she decided to keep that thought to herself, Ron would not see the humor in that despite its truth.

...

Hermione had already kicked her shoes off as Ron trailed his right hand down her stomach to the button of her jeans. He helped her shimmy them off while kissing the soft flesh near her spine. She gasped when he slipped his hand into the top of her knickers, pushing lower until his long fingers found the heat of her folds. The feeling of her, slick with want, threatened to push him into a frenzy; one that would conclude with his pounding into her from behind as he bent her over the nearest piece of furniture.

Compounding this feeling was the realization that she had snaked her hands backward and was working his button and fly open. Using his left hand, he grabbed his wand from his back pocket. He cast two non-verbal spells: one removed the rest of his clothing, the other ensured he would not become a father, at least not tonight. He tossed the wand aside and pulled Hermione closer, his fingers now teasing her sensitive clit.

They both moaned as his cock came into contact with her silky knickers. She was now grinding into him slowly, and he pushed into her with growing intensity.

"Please," she whimpered. He reluctantly removed his hand from her soft flesh, so that he could remove the last barrier between them. She turned and melted into his arms; he thought he would go mad at the feeling of her. No matter how many times they were together like this, he never got used to how right it felt to have her skin against his.

...

She didn't just want him anymore, she _needed_ him. She needed to be touched by his hands, to be tasted by his mouth, to be filled by his cock. She blushed a little at the thought; even after all they had done together, learned together, she was still taken by surprise at how _naughty_ she felt sometimes.

She stepped forward and pushed him down so that he sat on the bed and she stood between his knees. Hermione ran her hands into the hair at the back of his neck, pulling him into a scorching kiss. He growled into her mouth, pulling away to focus on her hardened nipples. She threw her head back in bliss. _More_.

She needed more. The blood in her veins burned, and she felt dizzy from the sheer force of her love for him. She wanted to make him lose control, to feel what she felt, to pull him into the fire with her. She ran her hands down his muscled back, relishing the familiar feel. So much had changed in less than a year. Not that long ago she had only dreamt about touching him, now he was here with her and it was even better than she had ever dreamt.

...

He wanted to kiss her forever, to savor their love, but his need was overtaking him. As usual, Hermione was one step ahead of him, climbing up on the bed and straddling him. The look of lust and love in her eyes took literally took his breath.

"Need you…inside me…now." Her words slammed into him with unbelievable force, he was almost unable to move, until he felt her hand guide his aching cock toward her center.

"Fuck…yes…now!" He watched her face in awe as she lowered herself onto him slowly; her tight, wet, heat surrounding him. How could every time feel so new and so familiar at the same time? How could having her make him want her even more?

He couldn't contain his hips as they thrust up slightly, eager to join them completely, but he wanted to let her have control. She moved over him timidly at first, and they kissed slowly and deeply. He knew that she wanted to let go, but she needed a little encouragement.

"Love…so good," wrapping his hands in the hair at the nape of her neck, he pulled her close and whispered, "more."

...

Hermione's love for Ron was the sum of million different attributes and actions, but a sizable portion was dedicated to his special knack for making her feel _powerful_. He never treated her like she was weak or fragile. It was in fact one of the first things that drew her to him. She had been worried that after Malfoy Manor that might change; he had seen her so vulnerable, but, amazingly, he had been able to make her see that her torture had been a crucible which only galvanized her strength.

Unsurprisingly, Ron had sensed the best way for her to ease the painful memories. The shadow of their past; the bloody and trembling forms that they had been the last time they inhabited this room, was cast out by their powerful lovemaking.

She ran her hands down his chest and urged him back onto the bed. The change in position brought him even deeper and they both cried out. She would give him more; she would give him everything.

Hermione circled her hips and moved forcefully over him; he placed his hands on her hips in encouragement but made no move to alter her pace. She threw her head back, relishing the physical and emotional connection they shared. The first tremors of her climax were building as she reached for her lover's hands. Their fingers intertwined and he offered the support of his arms as leverage.

"Oh, Ron, so close…"

He thrust up into her then, pushing her spectacularly over the edge. Her entire body began to tremble before she dropped down into Ron's waiting arms. He stilled his movements and stroked her hair.

...

Hermione's orgasm threatened to pull him over the edge, but he held back. He loved watching her, the way her face flushed, the way her thighs trembled, the way her mouth opened, the way her nipples twitched. He had intended to let her recover slightly before pursuing his own release, but those intentions vanished when she whispered in his ear.

"More…"

Without hesitation he flipped them over on the mattress. His feet hit the floor as he withdrew from her and stood up. He placed his hands under knees and pulled her closer to him.

"More?" He looked at her very earnestly.

She bit her lip and nodded at him; the look that she knew drove him mental. He thrust into her with one fluid stroke. They both groaned in bliss at the change in position. Gods, was there any better feeling than being buried inside her? Sometimes it still seemed unreal to him; not just that they were together, but that she took as much pleasure in him as he did in her.

He loved how they were learning each other physically. Their first few times had been beautiful, but they had both been pretty clueless. Now it seemed like every time they were together, it just got better. Like now, he knew from experience that after her first orgasm Hermione was particularly sensitive to short, deep thrusts at just the right angle.

Ron slid his hands under her arse and tilted her hips forward, never breaking his rhythm. The sound of their moans and slapping of his flesh against hers filled the small room. He was slamming into her now, so close to his own release that everything else began to slip away.

"Ron!" Her cry brought him back to reality just in time to feel her muscles clamp around him.

"Ermione!" His own orgasm ripped through him and poured steadily into her. She clutched at him, urging him toward her. He lowered himself as gently as his shaking arms would allow into her embrace.

"Love…you…so….much…that was…" Her words came out in short pants, no doubt due to the level of exertion and the weight of his body.

"Bloody…fantastic…love you…more." He then rolled over with her and found a more comfortable position on the bed.

Hermione settled into the crook of his arm and laid her head on his still slightly heaving chest. Ron could feel the smile on her face, and as her breathing evened out, he couldn't help feeling that what she had said early really applied in this situation. Truthfully he was so happy right now that there were no words that could adequately communicate his feeling of pure bliss.


End file.
